


Festival Afternoon

by MangoTea



Category: The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across The 8th Dimension (1984)
Genre: M/M, References to Tommy sleeping with other people, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 09:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MangoTea/pseuds/MangoTea
Summary: The Hong Kong Cavaliers were surprise guests at a major music festival, but they only did a very short set. Playing to their biggest audience ever, but only for twenty minutes, has left Perfect Tommy feeling unfinished, frustrated.





	Festival Afternoon

The crowd roared. 

The sun beat down on the open air stage. The desert was filled with people stretched out before them as far as Perfect Tommy could see. He'd never played for anywhere near this many people. The sheer size of the audience changed the sound of the cheering, it was a fuller richer sound and never fully stopped. He'd never felt energy like this before. 

Rawhide played the intro to the next song behind him. Tommy and Buckaroo started playing guitar at the same moment, guided by hours of practice. The audience started to sing along. The crowd grew louder. The audience could hear the music loud and clear. The sounds of their instruments and vocals were fed along cables to walls of speakers three stories tall flanking the stage. The speakers were carefully directed to send sound away from them in all directions, but none towards them. Only small speakers on the stage itself, the stage monitors, let them hear a feed of what their bandmates did. The sound of the crowd completely overwhelmed the stage monitors. All they could hear the endless roar. They had to keep going without being able to hear each other at all.

Tommy followed Buckaroo's lead by watching him, how he played and how he moved. They had to be tight. As the bass player, he had to form a foundation for band's sound. Tommy moved to the front of the stage to get a better view. Instead of ending the song, Buckaroo played to the demands on the crowd. He did a half tempo but full intensity version of the chorus and then repeated the last verse. Even under these conditions, he expected his crew to be able to keep up with him and his improvisations. 

As soon as the song was over, Tommy looked at one of the sound techs. The woman shook her head and spread her hands in a helpless gesture. There was nothing they could do. They had to keep going. Tommy looked to the band to see all eyes on him. Just as he'd watched Buckaroo to keep in sync, the rest of the band had watched him. One of the sax players saluted him. The drum player nodded. He turned to Rawhide, who was stuck behind the piano. Rawhide grinned at him broadly. He mouthed some words, and Tommy read them as 'you're doing good.' Tommy hopped that was the case. He pulled off his guitar and dropped his bulky jacket to the ground. The audience would get a better view of him, and so would the band. With his arms bare, his movements would be much easier to read. 

Rawhide whistled, or it looked like he did anyway. Tommy flicked his pick at him, then pulled a fresh one from his pocket. 

He spread his legs and cocked his hip to create a dramatic silhouette for the audience. He snuck one more look at Rawhide, then turned to Buckaroo. They traded looks and nodded in sync. He could do this.

Buckaroo launched into the vocal intro of Lost Nights. Tommy kept his hand up in a warding gesture as he followed along in his head. 

_The noise of the city fades_  
_Can only hear my heart beating_  
_Fleeing streetlight like renegades_  
_Stumbling, senses overheating_  
_You're leading me into the night_

Tommy raised his pick and paused, nodding along to the meter. Then he started playing. He could only hope that he signaled everything clearly. 

_Lost nights away from the streetlights  
At midnight the city is too bright_

The saxophonists looked like came in right on the heels of the lyrics. Perfect.

The crowd got even louder, which seemed impossible. They went wild as the band delivered. They slid smooth between solos and playing together. It was a perfect moment, and it only worked because Tommy was in the flow, following Buckaroo's lead and keeping the rest of the band from getting lost. 

He didn't notice how the sweat rolled down his back, he was lost in the energy. 

Buckaroo shut his guitar off and switched to a speaking position. The energy shifted. The crowd cried out, and settled into a chant of 'encore, encore, encore'.

The crowd wanted them to stay. Tommy wanted to stay. They'd done four songs as a surprise appearance at the Kristoff Foundation Fundraiser Concert, but now they had to turn the stage over to one of the headliners. 

Tommy's fingers tensed. Lost Nights should lead into Sunlight and Blue Jeans. He wanted to launch into the next song. A single note from his guitar would change that wall of energy from demanding to excited. He’d be giving them what they want. Stopping here felt so wrong. 

Tommy looked around and saw the rest of the band get to work on the change over. They pulled out chords and carried their gear behind the curtains. A stage hand gestured to him urgently. The moment was ending. Tommy pulled the cord from his guitar and handed it to the frantic man. He waved to the crowd as they walked off stage. 

They'd barely done the first quarter of their set and then left a massive crowd calling out for more. He was buzzing with unspent energy. The set had been intense. He was all worked up and was used to pouring out all his energy onstage. He felt on edge and frustrated.

The Hong Kong Cavaliers spilled out into the open area behind the stage. The next band started their own intro. Buckaroo was lead away to get him ready for a series of walk ons and duets with upcoming performers. The other band members scattered, some to watch the rest of the show and some towards showers. Tommy felt tightly coiled. He didn't know how the others could come down from such an intense and short set. 

He heard Rawhide walk up behind him. He grabbed Tommy's arms and squeezed. Tommy took in a deep and controlled breath to try to keep from visibly reacting. He felt frazzled, like an endless series of short circuits circled around under his skin. Now his frustration shifted in tone to something just as urgent, but more directed. 

“Hey,” Rawhide said softly in his ear, “need to work off that energy?”

Tommy nodded without thinking. Rawhide's grip tightened and he pulled him to the side. He lead Tommy under the stage, behind the black cloths draping the massive structure. 

“This is really public,” Tommy said.

“In your car parked behind the garage, a hotel roof, behind a waterfall-”

“Those are places you've found me having sex. You like sex in proper places, like beds and showers.”

Rawhide released him and started undoing the buttons of his cuffs. “It's a music festival. Sex wherever you can find a bit of cover isn't out of place, unlike the hotel grounds during the Advances in Biotechnology Conference.”

“Damn, I thought that was out of sight!”

“You had a foot braced against one of the bushes and it was swaying back and forth. Me and Red just about died laughing. It looked like something from a cartoon. Now,” Rawhide took a step toward Tommy, “are you suddenly shy or do you want me?”

Tommy leaned in to kiss Rawhide. Tommy started to relax a bit. This energy that buzzed through him had a place to go, it was going to be released. He felt a bit more in control, for a moment. Rawhide moved his hands to grab Tommy's ass. He squeezed. His fingers stroked and explored as much as they could through the fabric of Tommy's pants.

Tommy wanted to feel Rawhide's skin so badly. His hips pushed forward, desperate for more stimulation, but the feeling of his own cotton briefs was irritating. He growled. Rawhide chuckled.

Tommy brought up his hands and pushed Rawhide away. He pulled the front of Rawhide's plaid shirt open and pulled off his belt. Rawhide stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Tommy. Tommy pressed in, needing to feel skin on skin. He let his head fall on Rawhide's shoulder, breathed in the smell of his sweat. 

Rawhide was hot. Everything was hot. He pressed into that heat anyway. He needed to feel him. 

The band above them finished a long spoken intro and launched into a song with heavy bass. Tommy could feel the vibrations from the speaker above. He swallowed a whimper. It felt good. He needed more. 

Rawhide drew him towards some folded tarps and pushed Tommy down on them. He brushed a hand over Tommy's slacks.

“Fuck no. Cotton sucks, please, I need … I need you,” Tommy said.

“Is that so?” Rawhide said.

Rawhide unbuttoned then unzipped Tommy’s pants. He slipped his hand under the fabric and squeezed gently.

Tommy's hips bucked, thrust into his hand. This is what he needed, skin on skin, the pressure and the feeling of connection. Rawhide leaned in. Tommy felt Rawhide's breath on his cheek and then his lips as he pressed down kiss after kiss. 

Tommy bucked into his hand, hard. He could feel muscles tensing through his hips and legs. His feet tried to curl, but they were still confined in leather shoes. He was close. He rolled onto his side. He needed to get closer. Rawhide let go for a frustrating moment as they moved. Tommy pressed his face into Rawhide's muscled shoulder. Their legs tangled together. Tommy clung to him. Rawhide started stroking again, faster this time. Purposeful strokes meant to get Tommy to the brink and then over it. 

Tommy gripped his arms. His body was so tense that his muscles almost hurt. He needed this release. 

“I got you, I got you,” Rawhide said. “Yeah, that's it, just let go.” 

Tommy's breath stuttered and then he was coming, crying out and coming. Rawhide stroked and stroked until Tommy sagged against him. Rawhide let go and wrapped both arms around Tommy, holding him loosely as he panted, then tightly as his breathing calmed. It took a while for his mind to settle.

“I think I made a mess of your pants,” Tommy said, his voice a bit muffled.

“They were pretty soaked anyway. Wouldn't mind having them off.”

Tommy slid down and opened his fly. He wrapped Rawhide's thick erection in both hands and took the end into his mouth. Rawhide's skin was slick with sweat. Tommy moved his tongue around the head and sucked him deeper.

Rawhide reached down, carded his fingers through Tommy's short hair and made a fist, pulling slightly on his hair. His grip meant Tommy was at his mercy, he had control. He didn't assert it, just let Tommy keep working at him. The pull on his hair was very slightly painful, just enough to feel good. Tommy was acutely aware that Rawhide could easily force his head in any direction if he chose. He moaned softly, the sound muffled by the cock in his mouth. Rawhide chuckled in response.

Tommy sucked harder. He knew Rawhide had been hard since they started. The man had an uncanny ability to stay hard once he got hard. He was glacially slow to come when he wanted to be. He seemed like he planned to take his time. Tommy slid one hand down to cup his balls. He squeezed the soft skin very gently. 

He stayed there, sucking and squeezing until Rawhide finally gave in. His hips jerked as he came. Tommy sucked until he was spent. Rawhide let go of his hair and rubbed his head. His hair was a sweat-sodden mess. 

Tommy pulled back and relaxed his jaw, then flopped down next to him.

“Did the bush really move? At the Biotech Conference?” Tommy said.

Rawhide laughed. “Yeah, it did.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I just did.”

“You are the worst boyfriend.”

“You love me.”

Tommy groaned and curled up next to him. Rawhide drew him closer and they settled into a loose embrace. Hands entwined and foreheads touched. 

“Admit it,” Rawhide said.

“Always,” Tommy said. “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> As far as I know, there is no Kristoff Foundation. If one exists, google lied to me. It's meant to just be a random made up foundation without any connection to a real organization.


End file.
